The hazards of electricity
by penniewise
Summary: Dante is not amused by Trish's attempts to help him and tries to find a way to make them less...messy.


AN: Random spark!

**The hazards of electricity**

Dante twirled around and cut the hellhound in two. He had cleared the area directly around him so he put away the sword and drew Ebony and Ivory while looking around. He could see Trish slicing up a hound some feet away. The ground was littered with bodies and the two devil hunters seemed to be running out of targets. Seeing the only standing hound charge at him from a distance, he let the power of Alastor possess the two guns. When they both were sparkling with lightning he pulled the triggers and the charged bullets ripped into the body of the monstrous dog, tearing it to pieces. Pleased with his handiwork he put back the guns in their holsters. A sudden yell from Trish made him look around and see the gaping jaws of another hound, mere inches from his face. The crackle of electricity was heard and instead of having his face chewed off, Dante was splattered with hellhound entrails.

"That was the last one." Trish walked toward him while she carefully stepped over pools of blood and gut. Stopping in front of him she idly leaned on Sparda and gave the shell shocked Dante an amused look.

"Aren't you gonna thank me for saving you? It would have bit your face off, if I hadn't fried it."

Dante tried to hold his breath as the stench of the exploded carcase invaded his nose. He slowly raised his hand and wiped his face; making pieces of charred flesh and innards fall to the ground. He gave Trish a murderous look.

"Thank you for what?! Splattering me with this shit? You couldn't have found another way of killing it?" he growled.

"Gut instinct." Trish tried to keep her laughter at bay but her eyes betrayed her. The expressing on Dante's face darkened as Trish started to shake with suppressed giggles. She quickly stepped back as he shrugged like a dog and shook his head vigorously to get the muck off his clothing and out of his hair, sending bits and pieces of micro waved hellhound flying around him.

"Come on, dog boy! We have to go and collect the fee." Trish turned and walked to the bikes, still shaking with laughter. With a growl Dante brushed the no longer platinum bangs out of his eyes and followed her.

"I have to get her a pair of guns," he muttered under his breath as he got on his bike, grimacing as he felt how slippery his hands were against the handles.

.

-:-:-:-:-

.

"Happy anniversary!" Dante stepped through the front door of Devil Never Cry and, with his hands behind his back, walked up to Trish who was lounging in the sofa.

"What? What anniversary? What are you talking about?" Trish looked at him with a dumbfounded expression on her face. Had he finally flipped?

"It's exactly one month since we left Mallet Island. And here's your anniversary present." He removed his hands from behind his back and gave her a heavy package. Trish stared at it with disbelief in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"There's only one way to find out. Open it." Dante tried to hide a grin when Trish started to rip the paper from the large package. A black wooden box was revealed and when she opened the lid she squealed.

"IIHH, Dante! They're beautiful! Did you make these for me?!" Holding the box in one hand, she jumped from the sofa and flung her arms around Dante's neck. She squeezed him tightly and he put his arms around her and returned the hug.

"Hm, I think I should give you presents more often." Dante mumbled. Trish wiggled out of his grip and put the box on the desk. With awe she picked up one of the object in the box. It was a gun. A silvery twin to Dante's own 45's. She stroked her slender fingers over its cold surface, following the intricate etchings that covered the barrel. She picked up the other gun and twirled it in her hand to get a feel for the weight. This one had a golden shimmer over its etchings. She put them back into the box and stared at them, occasionally running her fingers over them. She looked up at Dante who stood leaning against the desk.

"The etchings are so beautiful. But why is there a smooth space on the side of the barrels?"

"It's a place for their names. When you have decided what to call them."

"Oh, like Ebony and Ivory?"

"Yes, but those are taken." Dante smiled at Trish and handed her the double holster that he had hidden in a drawer. He helped her strap it around her hips since he wanted to adjust the fit.

"What should I call them? I have no idea! Can't you come up with something?"

"No, you'll know when you have found the right names. Just give it time."

"Okay, but I don't know any names like Ebony and Ivory. They fit together, it's a pair."

"Read some books or watch some TV. Maybe you find some inspiration there." Dante shrugged. He figured it would come to her. After all every demon he'd ever met seemed to have fancy names on their weapons. Maybe it was in their genes. He watched Trish as she picked up the guns again and made a good imitation of himself as she twirled the guns into their holsters. She grinned as she picked up the box.

"I gonna go and do some target practice." She turned and walked through the back door, heading to the small shooting range that Dante had installed in the backyard.

.

-:-:-:-:-

.

"Dante!" Trish threw open the door to Dante's bedroom and screeched to a halt when she reached the bed. Dante muttered something into the pillow before he rolled over on his back.

"What." He squinted up at her and noticed the wide smile that adorned her face.

"I know what to call them! The guns!" Trish climbed into the bed and laid down on her stomach beside him, propping up her head with her hands and elbows. She grinned at the groggy devil hunter.

"I saw this TV show and I found the perfect names. They just roll of your tongue and they fit nicely together."

"Oookaay, can you remember them for a few hours more. It too early in the morning." Dante rolled back on his stomach and buried his head in the pillow. Trish poked him in the shoulder.

"Hey, don't go back to sleep. Listen. Itchy and Scratchy. What about that? Aren't they great names?" Trish's words slowly penetrated Dante's mind. He turned his head to look at her.

"What? Itchy and Scratchy? You can't call them that!"

"Why? I like it! And you said that I would know when I found the right names!" Angered, Trish shoved at Dante and nearly caused him to fall out of the bed. He only saved himself by grabbing on to the headboard.

"Hey! Enough with the shoving already! I just thought that you wanted something more…dignified. Itchy and Scratchy are animated characters for Pete's sake." Dante turned and faced her. Seeing her angered face he sighed and sat up.

"Okay. You can name them Itchy and Scratchy. Which one is which?"

.

-:-:-:-:-

.

The blade crouched down and watched as the devil hunters dispatched the last of its brethren. Its side was burning from a cut and both its shield and mask had been shattered by the paralysing blows of the half breed's sword. It used the piles of bodies as cover as it sneaked closer to its prey. Suddenly it heard a sound behind its back and turned around. The female had materialised behind the blade and she was pointing her guns at it.

"Hey Dante! Look what I've learned to do!" The guns started to sparkle as golden electricity snaked around the barrels. Dante wiped around and his eyes went wide.

"NO! TRISH, WAIT-" He had no time to duck as the blade was hit by the charged bullets and exploded, splattering him with its charred remains.

"So much for guns."

The End


End file.
